


there's ice in the mirror (and it's melting now)

by littlelamplight



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Its Mostly Mildred and Hecate, because i love them okay, little bit of hicsqueak at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelamplight/pseuds/littlelamplight
Summary: Mildred would’ve given her magic for this place, for her friends, and she’d known that if she had, she still would’ve had her Mum. She still would’ve had Maud and Enid. Her friends. Her family.She’d still been terrified.She wonders if Miss Hardbroom had been scared, too.





	there's ice in the mirror (and it's melting now)

She’s supposed to be sleeping. The halls are quite and still, and its well past curfew, but after everything that’s happened, after almost giving up her magic and seeing her friends frozen and learning the truth about her family, Mildred knew there was no chance of getting any sleep. 

 

Instead, she’s here, paused in the corridor running past the potions lab, her fingertips splayed against the stone, suspended between stepping forward and stepping back, listening to Miss Hardbroom cry. 

 

She feels awful for eavesdropping, and it’s not just because she knows Miss Hardbroom hates it. She feels like she’s listening to something she shouldn’t, like she’s somehow invading her space, like she’s doing something wrong. And she didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to stumble upon her potion’s mistress in a state of vulnerability, but she’s heard her, now, and she wants to get away without alerting the woman to her presence. 

 

Except she can’t move. She can’t turn away and pretend she hasn’t heard, because she can’t stop thinking about that day, and how Miss Hardbroom’s voice broke when she told her to step away from the Founding Stone. She can’t stop thinking about how she stumbled after she materialised, how she called out after her when she ran after Miss Mould, how Sybil told her that, like her, Miss Hardbroom was going to give up her magic for this school. 

 

Mildred runs her fingers over the stone, closing her eyes while she tries to work out what to do. She’d been wandering the halls to remind herself that Cackles was safe again, that it was whole, that there were no traces of ice on the stone. She would’ve given her magic for this place, for her friends, and she’d known that if she had, she still would’ve had her Mum. She still would’ve had Maud and Enid. Her friends. Her family. 

 

She’d still been terrified. 

 

She wonders if Miss Hardbroom had been scared, too. 

 

Mildred takes a deep, shuddering breath, and pushes the door to the potions lab open. 

 

‘Miss Hardbroom?’

 

Miss Hardbroom leaps from her seat at the desk, and something wobbles on the edge, slips and smashes against the floor, and Miss Hardbroom jumps again as the sharp sound splits the silence. ‘Mildred Hubble’, she grits out, and the familiar tone feels somehow less foreboding when she can’t see her face in the dark, when she knows there must be tears on her face, ‘ _ what  _ are you doing here?'

 

Mildred stays very still, acutely aware that she can’t see the glass in the dark, and that she’s wearing a pair of very thin socks. ‘I couldn’t sleep’, she says, staring where she thinks Miss Hardbroom’s eyes are. ‘Not after today’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom sniffs, a less disdainful sound than she’s used to. ‘And you thought you’d just wander into the potions lab, did you?’

 

Mildred lifts her hand, curling her fingers several times before she’s able to conjure a small flame in her palm. Miss Hardbroom turns her face away from the light, but it’s easy to see the tears gleaming on her cheeks. Mildred swallows tightly. ‘Are you alright, Miss Hardbroom?’

 

Miss Hardbroom’s jaw clenches, her arms stiff by her sides. ‘What a ridiculous question. Why wouldn’t I be?’

 

Mildred glances down at the glass around their feet, and bends down, gingerly reaching out to gather some of the shards closer, trying not to touch the shimmering liquid pooling on the stones around Miss Hardbroom’s boots. ‘I don’t know’, she says, shrugging slightly, ‘it was a… a bad day’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom makes a sharp noise of disapproval. ‘Stop that. You’ll cut yourself. You’re a witch, aren’t you?’ She waves her hand, cleaning up the spilt liquid and broken glass in an instant. ‘Do you never  _ think _ before you act, Mildred Hubble?’

 

Mildred stays where she is, staring at the flickering flame in her hand. She thinks about how much she didn’t want to give up the magic she’s come to love and embrace, and shrugs again. ‘I suppose… I thought I wouldn’t be able to use magic again after today. I started thinking about… about how I’d have to do everything by hand again’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom inhales sharply above her, and her voice sounds oddly tight when she says, ‘you did a very brave thing today, Mildred’. 

 

Mildred glances up at her teacher, but the woman’s face is turned away from her. The light from her small flame casts sharp shadows over her neck and jaw, and Mildred thinks that there is something oddly fragile about her sharp angles. Like pieces of clay hardened to thin points that could snap under too much pressure. She feels a sharp pang in her chest at the thought of art, and Miss Mould, and says, ‘I didn’t end up doing it, in the end’. 

 

‘No’, Miss Hardbroom says quietly, ‘but the intention counts’. 

 

Mildred swallows, wondering if she should push, if she’s already pushed too far, and might as well keep pushing. ‘Sybil said that you were going to give up your magic’. 

 

The tension in the woman’s neck pulls tighter, and she breathes out slowly. ‘It had to be done’. 

 

‘Were you scared?’ 

 

Mildred claps her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to ask that. Miss Hardbroom snaps around to stare at her, and despite the red rims to her eyes, Mildred quells a little under the intensity of her stare. ‘Excuse me?’

 

Mildred looks down at her hands, and mumbles, ‘I only meant… I was scared. I love having magic, and I didn’t want to give it up, but I… I had a life I could go back to. I’d lived for years without it. Whereas… I think it would’ve been hard, to give it up when you’ve had it your whole life’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom sniffs again. ‘I’m sure I would’ve managed’. 

 

Mildred says nothing. She stares down at her hands for a long time, and Miss Hardbroom doesn’t tell her to leave. She watches the woman lift her hand to wipe at her eyes out of the corner of her eye, and after a pause, Miss Hardbroom says, ‘what are you really doing out here, Mildred? Why not stay in your room?’

 

Mildred sighs. She reaches out to splay her hand against the stone, cold against her fingertips, but nothing like the ice that took over her whole being. ‘I wanted to see that everything was back to normal. It’s not… the ice was…’ 

 

Her throat tightens, and she falls silent. Maud and Enid snuck into her room after dark, slipped under the blankets with her and fell asleep once they were all bundled up, clinging to each other in the dark to try and forget how it felt to freeze where they stood. But she couldn’t forget the rest of the castle, how the ice had crept up on them all, and she had to check. 

 

She sighs again, and mumbles, ‘it’s hard to forget’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom moves, and Mildred jerks at the sudden movement, landing squarely on her bottom on the hard stone, and winces. Miss Hardbroom stares at her from her seat at the desk, and waves a hand, conjuring up a chair opposite her. ‘Sit’. She summons a larger flame than the one Mildred has in her hand that hovers above the desk beside them, and gestures expectantly. 

 

Mildred scrambles to her feet to sit on the chair, watching the woman fiddle with the pocket watch around her neck, waiting for whatever reprimand is to come. But when Miss Hardbroom does speak, her voice is a lot quieter than usual. ‘Mildred, I… I want to…’, she clears her throat, ‘apologise’. 

 

Mildred gapes. ‘What for?’

 

Miss Hardbroom makes a sharp sound, but Mildred has the odd impression that the noise isn’t directed at her. ‘Where to begin? But for starters…’ she takes a deep, measured breath, and says, ‘you should never have been in the position you were today’. 

 

Mildred blinks. She shuts her mouth, looks down at her hands, and shrugs awkwardly. ‘It doesn’t really matter, it -’ 

 

‘It does matter’, Miss Hardbroom says, her voice sharp and hard, ‘you are a pupil here and you have saved this school time after time despite the danger, and we have thanked you as if it was nothing, and yet today you almost made a sacrifice that no one should have ever asked you to make’. 

 

Mildred swallows. ‘Someone had to do it, and I… everyone else was frozen’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom shifts. When Mildred looks up at her, her teacher is staring down at her hands, clasped tightly over her watch and pressed over her stomach. Mildred can’t see her face, but her shoulders have curved down slightly. ‘I… I know. And that… that is unacceptable. It never should’ve come down to you’. 

 

Mildred shrugs. ‘But it did’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom grinds her teeth. ‘Unacceptable. You are a child, and you shouldn’t have had to take on the responsibility of an adult. It was my responsibility, and I should’ve completed the task before you were put in that position’. 

 

Mildred blinks rapidly. ‘But you froze’. 

 

‘That as may be, I shouldn’t have -’ 

 

‘You couldn’t help that you froze’. 

 

‘But -’ 

 

‘You tried your best’. 

 

‘I should’ve been better, Pippa!’ 

 

Miss Hardbroom goes very still. Mildred stares at her, her jaw unhinging again, and says slowly, ‘Pippa? As in… Miss Pentangle?’

 

‘Quite’. The woman looks down at her hands, and Mildred wonders if she imagines that she looks faintly panicked. ‘You are both as equally infuriating as each other’. 

 

Mildred smiles slightly. ‘Well… Miss Pentangle does say that all that matters is that you try your best’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom sighs. Her shoulders droop, and she shakes her head slightly. ‘She does, doesn’t she?’ 

 

Mildred stares at her potion’s mistress for a moment. She’s seen… moments, of this Miss Hardbroom, the one who seems softer in times of crisis, who cares more than Mildred understood at first. She’s never heard her cry before, but she’d seen the faint film of tears in her eyes after she and Miss Pentangle hugged. 

 

And she remembers, now, that the only time she’s really heard Miss Hardbroom sound frightened was last term, when she caught her in Miss Cackle’s study after she’d sent her home, when Agatha’s grip on the school seemed unbreakable. 

 

She coughs slightly, and says, ‘Miss Hardbroom… I couldn’t sleep because I was upset. I felt better after Maud and Enid came to sleep in my bed’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom looks up at her, arching an eyebrow. ‘Eager for a detention, are we?’ she asks, but she sounds more curious than angry, and Mildred takes it as a good sign. 

 

‘I just meant that…’ she sighs, rubs at her arms, remembering how it felt when the ice started to creep over her skin, wondering what she’s doing, and knowing, all at once. ‘Well, my Mum says that sometimes that when you’re feeling sad, the best cure is a hug’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom looks alarmed, and faintly horrified. ‘If you are suggesting that we… hug, Mildred -’ 

 

‘I didn’t mean me!’ Mildred coughs, looks down at her feets, notices a hole in her sock, and clears her throat. ‘I meant, you know. A friend’. 

 

‘I see’. Miss Hardbroom purses her lips, taps her fingers on the desk beside her. She seems smaller than Mildred is used to. 

 

Maybe that’s what prompts her to say, ‘Miss Pentangle is your friend, right?’

 

Miss Hardbroom gives her a very scathing look. ‘Cheek does not suit you, Mildred Hubble’. 

 

Mildred ducks her head to hide her grin. ‘Sorry, Miss Hardbroom’. 

 

In the silence, Mildred plucks absently at the frayed edges of her fingerless gloves, thinking about how odd it is to feel comfortable in Miss Hardbroom’s presence. She glances up at the woman to see her staring down at her pocket watch, and in the light from the flame on the desk, she can still see the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. She swallows. ‘Miss Hardbroom?’

 

‘Yes?’

 

‘If… the intention counts, like you said, then… yours did too’ .

 

Miss Hardbroom lifts her head to stare at her. 

 

Mildred stares back. She has that impression of clay again, of a sculpture with sharp edges that mustn’t be touched, little details that could break under the slightest pressure, of how clay can become brittle when its hard and fine. Miss Hardbroom’s eyes are over bright, like they were last term when she told her that it wasn’t her fault, when she told her to be safe, and her chin is trembling. Mildred smiles. ‘Mum always says that if you’re scared and you still do the thing that makes you scared, it makes you brave’. 

 

Miss Hardbroom opens her mouth, and then shuts it again. She blinks, looks down at her pocket watch, and remains silent. Something about it makes Mildred feel like she’s being dismissed, like Miss Hardbroom wants some space, and so she slips from her chair quietly. She has the strongest urge to hug her teacher, but it might just make her more uncomfortable. So instead, she leans forward, and pats her shoulder, withdraws her hand quickly, and hurries towards the door. ‘Night, Miss Hardbroom’. 

 

‘Mildred’. 

 

Mildred pauses, her hand splayed against the solid wood, and glances back over her shoulder. Miss Hardbroom looks up at her, her eyes over bright, and smiles, a very small, trembling thing. ‘Thank you’. 

 

Mildred smiles back. 

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Miss Pentangle is sitting at the teachers' table eating breakfast as if she’s done it a thousand times before. Mildred makes her way towards Maud and Enid among a bustle of excited chatter, and plonks herself down beside Enid. ‘What’s up?’

 

‘Are you blind as well as stupid?’ Ethel sneers from the other side of the table. ‘Miss Pentangle is back’. 

 

Mildred cranes her neck up, squinting her eyes as she looks over the teachers’ table. Miss Pentangle is happily enjoying a plate of pancakes, her head tilted slightly as she listens to Miss Drill. ‘Nope. Don’t see her’. 

 

‘She’s probably hoping to take over the school again’, Ethel grumbles, ‘you’d think she’d get the message that we don’t want her stupid magic here’. 

 

Mildred narrows her eyes at Ethel. ‘You just don’t like her because you can’t do her kind of magic. Aren’t Hallows supposed to be good at everything?’

 

Ethel turns red, and Enid sniggers. Mildred accepts a plate of toast from her friend, and Felicity sits down beside Ethel, leaning over with wide eyes. ‘Can you believe Miss Pentangle is here?’

 

‘Didn’t you hear about it first?’ Enid asks, and Maud leans over her to pass Mildred the orange juice. 

 

‘No! I had no idea she was coming’. Felicity shoots Mildred a look, and narrows her eyes in suspicion. ‘You don’t seem very surprised though, Mildred’. 

 

Mildred looks over at the table again. Miss Hardbroom has arrived, materialising behind the chair next to Miss Pentangle, and sitting down after a brief greeting. Miss Pentangle beams, a smudge of maple syrup visible on her chin, and Miss Hardbroom picks up a napkin to wipe it away for her. Mildred giggles. 

 

‘Well?’

 

Felicity is still giving her that expectant, suspicious look. Mildred shrugs. ‘Maybe I’m not’. 

 

‘How did you know?!’ 

 

Miss Pentangle is now pushing a large plate of pancakes across the table to Miss Hardbroom, and the corner of Miss Hardbroom’s mouth is ticked up very slightly. Miss Pentangle smiles at her, and then looks up suddenly. She meets Mildred’s gaze, her smile widening, and winks. 

 

Mildred smiles. ‘Oh, you know. Ears to the ground, Felicity’. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i just... have a lot of feelings about mildred and hecate!! and pippa and mildred! basically this trio and how they're alike and everything i love them
> 
> i'll probably do a continuation/similar thing focusing more on hicsqueak but i just wanted to focus on mildred and hecate a lil


End file.
